


Brains of the Operation

by Severina



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Community: tv-universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumplestiltskin tasks himself with providing the cake for Henry's birthday celebration.   Things don't go quite as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brains of the Operation

**Author's Note:**

> Future Fic. Fic 03 of 05 written for the tv_universe 'otherwordly' challenge on LJ, for the prompt "jaaneman" (sweetheart)
> 
> * * *

"Okay," Snow says, glancing up from her clipboard to make sure she has the full attention of everyone assembled at Granny's. "The decorations are strewn everywhere around the room, but David is home right now at least making a start on the balloons. I've received the RSVP cars from every invitation except two, so I'm assuming we're going to have a minimum of ten children tomorrow, plus Henry. Grumpy is picking up the soda tonight, and… Belle? You're making the punch?"

"Already done," Belle confirms with a nod. "And I found a beautiful punchbowl in the shop that we can use. It's lovely filigree crystal with insets of--"

"Good," Snow says distractedly, checking another item off her list.

Belle grins, leans back against the counter and glances at Rumple. Her love merely rolls his eyes. 

"Now as for the food… I made finger sandwiches for the adults, and Ruby's making burgers for the kids. Ice cream?" She scans her list. "That was—"

"Me," Emma says, raising her hand. "You know, it's just a kid's party. No big deal, really. You don't have to run it like a—"

"Military operation?" Regina suggests.

"We all work with our strengths. I took back a kingdom like this." Her eyes suddenly widen. "Cake!"

Emma sighs. "I can pick something up at the bakery."

"No need."

Belle isn't the only one to look askance at her husband. He places a palm on his chest, fingers splayed wide. "I can certainly provide a cake for my grandson's thirteenth birthday celebration," he says.

"Oh," Snow says quietly after a moment. "Okay. Well." She scowls down at her list, scratches something out with her pen. "Cake," she says aloud as she writes, a tiny frown line still marring her brow. "Rumplestiltskin."

* * *

"What do they think I'm going to do, poison everyone with it?"

Belle shifts beneath the covers, reaches up to snag one of Rumple's flailing hands. She presses a quick kiss to his knuckles. "I'm sure they're thinking nothing of the sort."

"What, then? Imbibe it with a magical potion that will make them spill all their secrets?"

Belle lifts a brow. "You could do that?"

"Quite easily, my dear."

Belle shakes her head at the implications of that, then sets it aside. If there is one thing she has learned, it is to not go looking for more problems. It's often difficult enough to deal with the ones she has. She sinks down onto the pillows, keeping her grasp on her husband's hand. "It just takes time, Rumple. Not everyone forgives and forgets so easily."

"But—"

"They know you love Henry," she says, "and you want to have a relationship with him. Be a grandfather to him. And they're letting that happen. Isn't that all that matters?"

Rumple lifts himself on one elbow, frees his hand from her grip to smooth his fingers along her cheek. "It is, indeed," he says. "As always, you are the brains of this operation."

"I rather think I'm the heart," she answers, but she lifts her head to accept his kiss. She sighs when the slow slide of lips deepens into something more, and twines her arm around his neck to play with his hair as he pushes her back into the pillows. His kisses have moved to her neck and the heat is starting to pool inside her when she pushes back on his shoulder, manages to get her brain to function again.

"Rumple? Shouldn't you make the cake tonight?" 

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmurs. "I'll whip something up tomorrow morning."

Belle makes a face, skeptical. But when Rumple leans in and snakes his tongue behind her ear in that way that makes her shiver and then slides a clever hand between her thighs, she very quickly forgets everything, including her own name.

* * *

"Emma's already called twice," Belle says as she enters the kitchen, one hand adjusting her earring as she walks. "Apparently her mother is driving her insane. She told me she's considering snatching Henry and heading back to Boston, and I'm not sure if she was joking or if we should be—" Belle stops, earring forgotten. "What is that?"

She watches Rumplestiltskin glance from her face to the ornate mountain of a cake that covers half the dining room table. "The cake," he says slowly. "Surely you haven't forgotten—"

"That," Belle says, "is not a cake."

Rumple blinks, rises carefully from the table. "I assure you it is," he says. "I told them that I would provide the cake. For Henry's birthday party."

"Yes," Belle says exasperatedly, " _you_ would provide the cake. Not whip it up by magic!"

"How else did you think I was going to make it, sweetheart?"

He looks so truly perplexed that she almost wants to laugh. Instead she steps forward and takes his hand. "Rumple, don't you see? This is part of the problem, part of why they hesitate to trust you. You rely on magic too much."

Rumple's brow creases as he frowns at her. "That's absurd. Regina has magic. Emma is the savior."

"But they're… they're the good guys," Belle says. She squeezes his hand in the hope of taking the sting out. "That's how they see it."

"Regina?" Rumplestiltskin squeaks out. It takes her back to the drafty castle, to perching on his table and listening to him tell her exotic tales of his travels, his silk sleeves fluttering as he wove the story, his voice rising and lowering in pitch as he took on the voices of the kings and merchants with whom he dealt. She's certain if she didn't have hold of his hand right now he'd be gesturing with it expansively. " A 'good guy'? _Regina_?"

"I know," Belle says. "It's not fair. But if you show up with that cake, it will just remind them of the differences they see between you and them. If you want to be a part of Henry's life, reminding his mothers and his other grandparents of your power isn't going to win you any favours."

She can see in his eyes that he still doesn't quite understand, but he sighs and removes his hand from hers to wave it at the table. The cake disappears in a flash of purple smoke, and he turns to her, cocks his head. "So what do you suggest?"

Belle straightens, puts one hand on her hip and looks around the room. "Do you have any flour?"

* * *

They're only an hour late for the party, and considering the chaos they've left behind in the kitchen Belle considers that a massive achievement.

"Hey!" Snow calls out. "You finally made it."

Belle weaves her away around the bodies of half a dozen teenage boys sprawled on the floor, most of them entranced by the video game on the TV screen and the controllers in their hands. "Sorry we're late," she says. "A little… delay in the kitchen."

"No worries, we'll be going for hours yet," Snow says.

"Great," David says dryly from somewhere behind her.

Snow scowls over her shoulder, but is smiling brightly when she turns back to Belle. "So… that's the punch," she says, and Belle nods as Rumple sets the beautiful bowl down on the counter. "And… this?" she continues, gesturing to the platter in Belle's hands.

Belle bites her lip. "Um… the cake?"

Snow cocks her head. "The… cake." She blinks, smiles crookedly. "Of course it's the cake."

Belle nods again, perhaps a little too eagerly, and looks down at the pathetic lopsided little lump dwarfed by the oversized platter. "It was a little more difficult to make than anticipated," she says, "but Rumple did his best. And I helped." She holds out the platter awkwardly. "It's chocolate," she finishes lamely.

"If you'd like," Rumple says, "I can magic us something—"

"No," Snow says quickly. This time when she looks up from the platter, her smile is wide and genuine. "That you took the time to make this says a lot," she says. She reaches out a hand to squeeze Rumple's arm gently before cradling it back around the plate. "Thank you."

Belle looks up in time to see the shocked look on Rumple's face morph into a kind of cautious happiness of his own. He gives a short bow. "My pleasure," he says.

When Snow wanders off to find a place for the cake on the table, Belle links her arm with her husband's and does her best not to smirk up at him. 

"If you say 'I told you so' I will magic _you_ straight into the duck pond on the common," Rumple says without looking at her.

"Okay, I won't say it. But I'm thinking a lot more than that. It's a good thing you can't read minds." She raises her eyes to his when he cocks his head. "You can't read minds," she says more decisively after studying him a moment. 

Rumple raises a brow.

Belle bites her lip. Of course he can't read minds right now, but maybe there is a potion that he could make that would actually allow him to… 

She shakes her head. Don't go looking for problems, she reminds herself. 

She leans up on her toes to place her lips near his ear. "If you can read minds," she whispers, "then you must be very happy about how I'm going to reward you for listening to me tonight."

She darts off to say hello to Ruby before he can reply, but she can still see him squirm and blush from the other side of the room.


End file.
